“Elect” by Caroline Rothstein

Essay

I am writing this in the past. Therefore, this moment in which I am writing is now historical. An archive. And even though I am writing right now in what will become the past about a moment that has not yet happened, this is a work of neither science fiction nor prediction. And yet, I am writing about a moment I cannot yet predict. About how many moments are unpredictable, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be prevented or elected to be different than we might hope. The day on which I am sharing this with the world—the now now—is the day after an election. The day on which I am sharing this with the world is also the day...

Continue reading →

“OK, but what is it that ‘nobody wants’?” by Caroline Rothstein

Essay

OK, I’m chiming in. But know that I’m not the first one to say something. There was Elizabeth Karpen in Hey Alma, who rocked an excellent breakdown of “the Jewish witch vs. the shiksa goddess” trope; Rabbi Denise Handlarski—also Hey Alma—who tenderly shared her own experience as a rabbi in an interfaith marriage, and says, while she “appreciated this realistic portrayal…it also saddened” her; and Jessica Grose wrote in the New York Times that, “The show seems to have been beamed in from the past century in both its depiction of Jew-gentile relations and also its gender politics.” And, if your group chats or IRL convos with your favs have been like mine the past weeks, your comms are also...

Continue reading →

“Beyond Your Peripheral Vision” by Caroline Rothstein

Essay

There’s a lot of shit I didn’t have on my 2024 Bingo card. In every regard. On the personal tip, one was reconnecting with a friend I never thought I’d talk to again. But we’ll get to that. First, a close second, was finding myself at 10:00 p.m. on a Monday in early June, days after my 41st birthday, listening to Ani DiFranco’s “32 Flavors” on repeat. This shouldn’t seem surprising since I once sat at my desk in my dorm room at boarding school in Switzerland my senior year of high school listening to the track on CD over and over on my miniature boombox in a pale blue tube top from Bebe. And then again, many, many more...

Continue reading →

“Surrendering to the Flow” by Caroline Rothstein

Essay

Set I: For the past 20 years, whenever I hear Phish’s “Wading in the Velvet Sea”—whether live or listening on my own—I am immediately brought back to August 15, 2004, when Phish—an American rock band with a maniacal following, of which I am a part—played a weekend festival in Coventry, Vermont. It was supposed to be their last show of all time having announced their break-up that May (spoiler alert: they got back together in 2009 and have been raging since). But this summer Sunday in 2004, when we still think we are at the end of our journey, after the first song of the second of three sets, keyboardist Page McConnell begins the opening chords of “Wading in a...

Continue reading →

“Surviving Survival” by Caroline Rothstein

Essay

I have been thinking about anti-carceral feminism. About how I am a survivor of multiple accounts of sexual assault. About how I am a Jew. How in these two seemingly unrelated things, they are still interconnected, not only because both things are happening within my same body, but because both involve and include an experience of being fractured and disembodied. So I have been thinking—especially of late—about this anti-carceral approach to accountability. As a survivor of sexual assault, my body has been many times disembodied without my consent. As a Jew—even before I was born—my body was set to inherit from generation to generation—l’dor v’dor—a plethora of disembodiment also without my consent, since anti-Jewish oppression and anti-Jewish antisemitism, like any...

Continue reading →

“Both/And” by Caroline Rothstein

Essay

Let’s start by getting this out of the way: I have never identified as a Zionist. Nor do I identify as an anti-Zionist. I suppose you could call me a non-Zionist, but really I find that unnecessary—to center my Jewishness around Zionism at all. Because really, I am just a Jew. Better yet, a Hebrew. Since Jew is a particular kind of Jew descended from the Tribe of Judah, and it is the Hebrews, really, where our story as ancient Israelites begins. Hebrew—ivri, one who crosses over or passes through. A nomad. In the in between. A participant in the both/and. Because really—more than anything—that’s what I feel my birthright to be: liminality. One whose rituals deal with the liminality...

Continue reading →